


Beyond The Fence

by MuiromeM



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bittersweet Ending, Childhood Friends, Gen, Growing Up Together, I promise it's not as bad as it sounds, One Shot, Past Character Death, Romance, Supernatural Elements, from the tags or warnings, though the romance is kind of subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuiromeM/pseuds/MuiromeM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Victorian England, Louis and Harry grew up together from across tall rows of white wood.  Separated for years but never apart, in time Louis would to come know what awaits him just beyond the fence. </p><p>Teen just to be safe (because I'm paranoid).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Fence

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my lovely sister because instead of giving her prompts for fic to write (like she asked me to), I ended up getting hit with an idea for my own at 3 o'clock in the morning. I also have no idea why this is set in the Victorian Era, but for some reason that was how I pictured it, despite there being probably no in-text context as to the time period.
> 
> I hope this fic isn’t too bad because I haven’t written anything in ages and this is my first time writing anything for the One Direction boys. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Reviews are not necessary, but they are greatly appreciated!

* * *

 

 

Beyond The Fence

     When Louis was eight and a half, his family moved to the countryside. His mother had said it would be better for everyone but secretly, Louis thought she was just talking about him. She always fretted over him every time he so much as coughed, but he supposed that was a mother’s job. The new house was nice, lavishly decorated with posh furniture and the back yard was really big with lots of grass for him to run around on (if his mum actually let him run around). The roof was pointed really fancy, the whole yard had a white wooden fence that was unusually tall, too tall for everyone to look over (well, ok so tall people like his dad could see; he was still too short), and his father had suggested buying some flower boxes.

    His bedroom wasn’t very fun because there were lots of boring books and a bunch of silly things his mum insisted on keeping there (he wasn’t sure what the bottles and stuff were), but it did have a door that connected to his parents room which was great for rainy nights and thunderstorms (not that he’d admit to being afraid of thunder, because that was silly).

     The best part, though, was that there was someone living next door; Louis never actually saw Mr. and Mrs. Styles, but that was the name he’d spied on the rusty old mailbox. Their house looked very different from the one he lived in now and his mother had said something about being built in a much older style. What was once blue paint had cracked and fallen off in many places and the lawn was unkempt and devoid of much grass, but Louis still liked it because it meant he had neighbors. There weren’t many to speak of this far out in the countryside, and even the Styles house was separated from his by the fence. Whatever the reason, these two houses were the only ones near each other for kilometers, as if the two had been built together on purpose.

     Moving in took almost a week (what with the furniture and other things that a little boy didn’t think about or understand), so Louis had become bored and restless until his mother finally allowed him to play outside. Within half an hour of being out of the house, Louis had already chosen a spot in the backyard to call his favourite and was patiently digging away there; he’d found a small hole at the bottom of the fence which separated his yard from that of the large house next door.

      This spot was special because it was as far away from his house as he could get while still being within the backyard (and the sights of his ever-watchful mum), and he liked the bit of privacy it gave him as both his parents had the unfortunate tendency to hover. He’d taken a spoon from the kitchen at the earliest opportunity upon finding the broken section of fence and had hidden it in the grass and shrubbery so his mum wouldn’t take it away. For two or three days he’d been trying to dig a ditch under the hole in the fence so that he could see through to the other yard properly and maybe even talk to whoever lived there. He’d heard someone humming two days earlier, before he’d been forced to go inside, and since his mother wouldn’t let him play next door, this had been his next best idea.

     The Monday after the moving was done, Louis lie on his tummy in the grass, warmed by the midday sun, kicking his feet to an unknown tune he’d heard his mother singing earlier and carefully scraping away at the ground. He only ever managed to move a little dirt at a time, not strong enough to really make any headway yet, but not really caring about it. From his peculiar vantage point, Louis was concentrating hard, small tongue sticking out to the side of his mouth as he looked through the sandwich-sized hole every now and then to see if feet might appear. The wind was soft and not a sound could be heard but the twittering of birds and the subtle noises which would drift here and there from an open window.

      It was during a lull in the birdsong, as Louis took another little peek, when two big, green eyes suddenly greeted him, staring through the very hole Louis had been trying to make bigger. Shocked, the eight year old squeaked in fright and immediately rolled onto his bum, blinking silently for a minute because _someone was there!_

 Not often confronted by the possibility of adventure and never one to run from a mystery, Louis carefully got back down on his stomach, crawled towards the hole again and called out as loudly as he dared.

      “Hello?” he almost whispered, trying to see where the green eyes had suddenly gone off to while he’d not been watching. Perhaps it had been a cat that had scurried away and he’d missed the little fellow? That would be an awful shame, since he’d always liked cats.

      Luckily, just when Louis thought he’d never find out (after all, he’d waited a total of six seconds and surely that meant that whoever owned the green eyes was gone _forever_ ), he heard something.

     “Hi!” Back again, and now followed by a voice not much deeper than his own, Louis realized from what little he could see that the green eyes across the fence belonged to a little boy, possibly his age. The greeting had been drawn out lazily but sounded nice enough to Louis, so he gave a smile. “Are you my new neighbor?” the boy was asking, tilting his head enough to give Louis a glimpse of dark brown curls through the hole. “I’ve been wanting a new neighbor.”

      “Then today is your lucky day!” Now Louis grinned as wide as his cheeks could go, hoping the boy could see him well enough. “My name is Louis! Louis William Tomlinson. What’s your name?” he asked, suddenly unable to contain his excitement. “Are you Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ boy? I’ve never met them but your mailbox says they’re there. How old are you? I’m eight! Do you like to dig? I’ve been making this hole bigger ‘cause my mum won’t let me play over at your house and I wanted to meet my neighbors.”

      Bombarded by questions, the other boy just giggled and Louis decided he liked when that happened because the boy had a dimple and his mum always said that dimples meant you were friendly or something. Or maybe that was freckles? “I’m Harry,” the boy said a bit shyly. “and yeah, my dad painted that on the mailbox when we moved in. I want to dig too but dad says digging ruins the yard. He’s just old and boring though. But guess what?” Harry leaned in now and giggled again, as though sharing a special secret. “I’m going to be _seven_ soon!”

     Louis beamed in delight, resting his chin on folded fingers. “That’s good, means we’re close in age!” he said matter-of-factly. “Mum always says you should be close in age to have friends, but I’ve not got any friends so I wouldn’t know.” He frowned a bit, thinking something over. “Maybe _we_ could be friends? How about it Hazza? Do you want to be my first friend _ever_ _?_ ”

     Harry’s eyes widened, first when Louis admitted to having no friends, and then even bigger at the sudden nickname. “Okay!” he said happily, sticking his small fingers through the hole. He tilted his hand and balled it into a fist, all but the pinky tucked in. “We can pinky swear! It means we’ll be friends forever and ever!”

      Louis had apparently never heard something so fantastic and he said as much, linking his own pinky with Harry’s. “Forever! Maybe you can get your own spoon and dig under the fence too! I’m not very strong and mum says I shouldn’t tire myself out, but that way it’ll go faster and maybe we can crawl under to see each other one day.” he suggested.

     Squeezing Louis’ hand Harry nodded emphatically. “I’ll see if I can get one from my mum; she won’t mind if I tell her it’s _really important_.” Louis nodded, about to say more when a voice floated across the yard, insistent and (to Louis), familiar.

      “ _Louis! Come inside dear, you shouldn’t be out too late!_ ”

      His mother had warned him earlier that he wouldn’t be able to stay out long but that didn’t make leaving any easier. Sighing dramatically, Louis got up and dusted his trousers down (it was too late to get the grass stains out though). Before he left however, he crouched down carefully, waving goodbye to Harry.

     “I’ll see you tomorrow ok?” He said quickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his mum wouldn’t come to get him and discover his secret place. If that happened, she’d get his father to patch up the hole and then everything would be ruined.

      “Do you promise?” Harry asked, looking at him, sad and unsure, through the little hole in the fence.

      “Of course, curly! I made a pinky swear remember?” Louis grinned once more before scurry back to the house. His mother would yell at him for getting too dirty and for talking to himself (he insisted he wasn’t and that he was talking to Harry next door), but all Louis could think about was how fun tomorrow would be now that he had such a special friend.

  

* * *

 

      Yet another day spent with Harry and Louis had decided that there was not enough work being done. “You know, I think you’re getting lazy there Hazza.” He said cheekily, gaining a laugh from Harry. “Your side isn’t nearly as dug up as mine is you know, and you’re bigger than me!”

      “Everyone is bigger than you, Lou!” Harry shot back, flicking dirt through the hole and grinning. Louis made a face but he had to admit that his friend was right; he had a very slight frame and he’d not yet had another growth spurt. “It’s ‘cause you eat like a bird or something. Surprised you still can’t fit through here.”

      Like most days, the two were sitting around and chatting about whatever came to mind while digging in the dirt. The hole in the fence wood had grown above the size of a dinner plate after a stray dog from down the street had found it a year ago, but Louis and Harry had also grown in the three years since they’d first met and still couldn’t fit through to each other’s side. As Louis was still too short to see over the fence and the painted wood completely surrounded his house, there would be no other way for him to talk to Harry.

      Even though he was a little older now, Louis was still never allowed outside for more than a few hours (he’d tried to persuade his mum for more time but she wouldn’t listen), so the pit he’d been working at wasn’t as large as he wanted it. Harry’s side never seemed to get any bigger, but it didn’t matter too much; mostly, Louis just enjoyed talking and laughing with Harry.

      “You really ought to get out more you know,” His friend was rambling, lying on his back and looking at Louis upside down through the hole. It made his hair splay out funny and Louis could see up his nose. “You’re always so pale, never getting enough sun. My dad read in the paper that people need to have fresh air and sun to stay healthy. It’s why I get to play outside so much.”

      Patiently digging away with the same spoon he’d always had, Louis hummed in agreement. “Yeah well, I’ve told you about my mum. She’s strict and always wants me inside when I study.” He let out a harrumph. “Says I get too distracted and that I’ve got a “condition” or something. I think she just doesn’t like me getting in the mud and stuff. Besides, reading is boring. I‘d rather stay out here and talk to you!” he poked Harry gently with the spoon.

     Harry only gave a scowl, something Louis hadn’t expected. “Readin’s not boring!” he protested readily. “I loved to read! Don’t do it much anymore of course, since I prefer to stay outside... But hey, what if I read a book out loud to you some day? It could be one chapter a day, might be fun! Or, maybe I could just tell you a story? A scary one about ghosts or goblin men!”

         Deciding to join Harry in looking at the sky, Louis rolled carefully onto his back and snuck his hand through so that Harry could grab it, their fingers intertwining. “I kind of like the sound of that.” he admitted. “That might make it a bit less boring... Though if you _do_ read me something, it should be something exciting and adventurous, like pirates or kings.”

     “Or pirate Kings!” Harry added, laughing. “Mum used to read me one about a cursed pirate king, but I don’t know where the book went. Was supposed to be about a real captain or something.” He shrugged, their heads bumping together lightly from the motion. “Of course, you could always bring over one of yours to read…” He mumbled a bit more, probably thinking aloud to himself. It wasn’t long before the discussion turned to what sort of books Louis had at his house.

      From there the two continued to chat idly, looking at clouds and pretending they were shapes, discussing about what they would have for pets if their parents ever allowed animals in the house (cats were good but Louis wanted a puppy), and what they thought was the best way to eat blueberries (which was in pie _of course_ , but Harry was silly and didn’t like that idea). To the two of them, it was no different from what they did every day (unless one of them got sick and couldn’t come outside), but it never seemed any less special.

      On one particularly warm day, Louis had even drifted off briefly for a nap, not realizing what had happened until his mother had come outside to fetch him. He’d not seen Harry as he was leaving, but Louis knew that his friend had watched over him as he slept. He’d felt safe and comfortable in that short amount of time, and that was how being with Harry always felt.

  

* * *

 

      There was one thing Louis probably liked best about Harry: he never had a problem with all of Louis’ crazy ideas. Never able to run around or play as much as most children, Louis instead had to make due with his imagination. After eons of experience (which of course meant twelve years, since that was how old he actually was), he’d gotten a rather unusual sense of adventure and mischief which often got him into trouble.

      One day, the two boys had decided (upon Louis’ suggestion), to throw a ball across the fence from Louis’ bedroom window into Harry’s yard; Harry was meant to catch it and throw it back somehow. The idea would have seemed ludicrous to someone like Louis’ mother, but to Harry nothing had ever sounded so _exciting_. Without even bothering to figure out if Louis could see over the fence from his bedroom window (he could a little bit, but he hadn’t caught sight of Harry), they’d chosen to enact the plan immediately and without much forethought.

      Suffice to say, Harry was too short to catch the ball or toss it back over, his mother had apparently grounded him for a _whole day_ and Louis’ mum refused to get his ball from the “shabby lot next door”, so Louis was down a ball and (for an afternoon), a friend. He wasn’t happy about what his mum had called Harry’s house either, but both boys had a good time that day anyways.

      To Louis, the whole ordeal meant that Harry didn’t mind that Louis could be a bit odd, too noisy, or that he ended up getting them _both_ into trouble; they were friends either way and that was why Harry was special.

     It was a few days after the incident, when Louis was finally able to go back outside, that he’d been lucky enough to convince his mother to let him stay out an extra hour (so long as he didn’t get into trouble), because he’d been extra diligent in his studies. The extra time had been spent laughing, talking, and making faces, with very little getting done in the way of digging. Now, as the sun started to dip lower on the horizon and Louis knew he’d have to go in soon, he squeezed Harry’s hand tightly, closing his eyes and just enjoyed feeling the breeze in his hair.

      “I don’t want to go inside yet Haz...” he mumbled with a sleepy sigh. “Maybe if I lie still, mum will think I’m a tree stump and she won’t come to get me.”

      There were giggles from the other side of the fence and Harry squeezed his hand in return. “Don’t think so, you’re too noisy to be a tree stump!” he teased gently and Louis just _knew_ his green eyes were sparkling beneath pretty lashes. “Besides, your mum couldn’t forget to come and get you! You’re too special to forget.”

      Louis was suddenly glad that their faces were pointed to the sky and not each other because he might have been blushing and that was a _girly_ thing to do. He found himself smiling at the compliment anyways and whispered a small, “Thanks.” to his friend for saying something so nice. “I’ll never forget you either Harry.” He added after a moment of thought. “We can be together forever, right? Maybe if I ever move out we can do it together and get a house together or something?”

      While Louis expected a reply or a laugh like usual, instead Harry was silent, gently squeezing Louis’ hand once more. For a while the boy remained that way, unmoving but still holding tight, and Louis feared he’d said something wrong. Before he could ask though, a reply finally came.

      “Do you mean it?” When Harry’s voice drifted through on the breeze, it was small and almost unsure. “Can you really stay here forever? I mean… would you? I don’t ever want you to go away, Lou. Other people go away and don’t ever come back. What if that happens?”

      Rolling onto his stomach so that he could look down at his curly-haired friend, Louis grinned in a way he hoped was reassuring and kept their fingers tangled together. “Why would I leave my best friend? I made a promise didn’t I?” he stated, as though nothing in the whole world were more true. “Of course I mean it!”

      “Good.” Harry relaxed, smiling gently and even closing his eyes. Louis felt much happier knowing that his friend wasn’t upset anymore.

      He’d meant what he’d said too; in a more truthful and heartfelt way then most young boys his age would have. When he’d first moved to the countryside, Louis had expected it to be lonely and boring... but Harry was fun, he was sweet, and he was always there (unless he wasn’t, but that hardly ever happened). For a twelve year old boy living with just his parents and only this one friend in all the world, that was all that really mattered.

  

* * *

 

    “Y’know... my mum thinks that you’re a cat.” That was how Louis had decided to start the conversation that day, a slightly chilly Tuesday afternoon, when he sat beside the fence. It was three days after Harry’s sixteenth birthday but Louis hadn’t been able to see him for almost a week because he’d gotten really sick. It was only now that his mother had _finally_ let him go outside.

     As usual, Harry was sitting at the fence before Louis ever got there. He grinned bigger than Louis had seen since they were small children as soon as the older boy had sat down on the prickly autumn grass. “Lou! Where have you been?” Harry asked straight away, lying on his stomach so as to see better. He reached out immediately so that he could take his friend’s hand through the opening.

    Though the broken part of the wood had remained the same size, the pit that had taken years to dig was big enough for Harry to poke his head and nearly his shoulders through now (which he did on occasion).  It had become a pact of theirs over time that every summer, they would try to finish the hole. Sadly, winter would come too quickly and Louis couldn’t go outside in the winter anymore after he’d gotten very ill the previous year, so progress was kind of slow. As it had been when they were younger, Harry’s side was hardly dug out at all despite how long they’d been going at it, and Louis still teased him about being a lazy bag of bones. Still, he would help try to dig out Harry’s side now and then, and Louis would be able to fit through soon (they may have also started to chip away at the fence’s wood, which helped).

      After his bout of illness however, Louis wasn’t really up to digging today, and getting Harry through as well would be another story entirely anyways (from what he knew, Harry was much broader and taller than him). So, going against their usual routine, Louis got onto his stomach too and picked at some grass blades instead.  

     Huffing out a breath, he gave a sheepish smile before replying. “I am sorry about that Hazza, got a bit under the weather for a while and I couldn’t leave my room, never mind the house.” He shivered slightly in the breeze but ignored it, crawling a bit closer so that his and Harry’s noses almost touched, resting his chin on one palm. “But as I was sayin’ earlier, I decided my mum thinks that you’re a cat.”

     “A _cat?_ ” Harry had heard stranger things in his time together with Louis, but now he scrunched up his face in confusion. “What’s she think that for?”

     Louis shrugged. “Not sure. I think she thought that you were my imaginary friend when I was little, but now she thinks you’re a cat.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, running his fingers through his friend’s soft hair. “It’s probably because I said you’ve got curly hair and big green eyes. Most people don’t have pretty green eyes like you, but lots of cats do.”

     Blushing slightly at the compliment, Harry shrugged too. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you always talk to me through a fence?” he suggested, laughing and sending Louis into giggles as well. When a fit of coughing followed though, Harry frowned. “You really don’t look well mate, bags under your eyes and stuff. Sure you’re ok? Don’t want you gettin’ sick because of me.” He was obviously worried and had taken hold of Louis’ hand, running a thumb along the back of it in the same way Louis’ mother sometimes did.

   “I’m fine, I promise.” Louis said. He hoped that a smile would make him appear healthier; worrying Harry was the last thing he wanted to do. “But unfortunately, I do have to go inside very soon...” he added regretfully. “Mum said I couldn’t stay out here long. Maybe if I feel better tomorrow though I can convince her to go over to your house. I bet if she meets you, she won’t be so uptight about keeping me in the house. I just know she’ll love you!”

    A laugh suddenly burst from Harry, loud and wonderful to Louis’ ears. Harry covered his mouth with a hand as thought to retract the outburst before poking Louis gently on the nose. “Then maybe she won’t think I’m a cat anymore!”

      They both laughed a while longer, but all too soon the familiar female voice could be heard over the wind and Louis had to leave. Shivering but smiling like an idiot, he turned back before getting too far, doubled back and crouched down again, very much like the day they’d first met. “Oh by the way, Happy Birthday!” Louis pulled a little box out of his back pocket, took something from it, and tossed a thin silver chain under the fence.

    Strung on the metal was a small pendant, shaped like a paper plane and gleaming silver in the waning light. For a moment as it soared past the fence, it looked as though the metal ornament was actually flying, then it landed on the ground and Harry picked it up, smiling before putting it on. His dimples were in full sight and he beamed in glee. “I love it!” he said happily, examining it closer and fiddling with the chain. “Thanks Lou! I promise to wear it, even to bed!”

      This earned him a laugh that made Louis’ eyes crinkle at the edges. “Don’t want it to break though.” he replied. The jeweler that had made it for him (because he had begged his mum), had warned about the chain being very delicate.

      “Don’t worry, I won’t break it.” Harry said. “It’s from you after all, got to take care of it!”

      Louis oddly remembered a discussion they’d had before and a question bubbled up inside of him. “A little something to remind you of me.” he said, sticking his pinky out and through the fence in what was, by now, an all-too-familiar gesture. “When one of us is too sick or busy to come out, yeah?” Harry seemed to frown for a moment at the words but it passed quickly enough and he locked his pinky around Louis’ thinner and smaller one.

       “Of course! _I promise_.” 

 

* * *

 

     Four months after Louis turned seventeen, his mother told him that he was too old to be making up stories to entertain himself. He’d not felt well a few days before and she was tired and over-worried so when he’d started asking about how long it would be before he could go outside, she’d yelled at him. The tirade hadn’t lasted long but she’d mentioned Harry and said it was bad that Louis wouldn’t let the issue rest, and he’d had trouble keeping the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

      After that, Louis had decided not to say anything for a while. Even after things had eased up and his mother had calmed down, he’d stayed inside and studied like he was supposed to (despite how much he didn’t want to).

      He wasn’t able to see Harry for days, but perhaps his mother had finally seen how upset it made him because after a week and a half, she’d suddenly started being extra nice to him. Mrs. Tomlinson prepared his favorite dinner, let up on how often she chastised him for not paying attention and even bought him a new shirt. While Louis’ father was usually the one who suggested that he go outside to get some fresh air and sun, now it was his mother. Louis didn’t really know what had caused such a complete turnaround in her, but he wasn’t going to argue because going outside meant seeing Harry.

      Relaying the events to his friend later, Louis couldn’t even put into words how much he had missed seeing Harry. Keeping silent until his friend was finished, Harry had simply listened to the ranting, complaining, laughing, giggling, and questions from his friend, green eyes never straying from Louis’ face.

      If their hands had stayed locked together the whole time Louis was outside, he didn’t really care to mention it.

  

* * *

 

    When Louis turned eighteen, his mother promised him that he could have anything he wanted so long as she was capable of doing it for him. She had looked sad and the smile hadn’t reached her eyes, but all Louis could think about was one thing: _Harry_.

     He’d asked her if he could finally go to Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ house since he was an adult now and he’d been doing really well recently, so there wasn’t any reason why he shouldn’t be able to go. His mum had looked at him sadly and had left the room, locking the bedroom door she shared with his dad and his parents hadn’t come out for hours. Louis had caught up on some of his reading (a fantasy novel Harry had suggested this time; his mum had stopped his tutelage months ago), and sometime in the early evening before the sun went down, they came back out. His mum looked older than usual and tired, but she had smiled and finally agreed to take him over, if only for a few minutes. That was all Louis needed to hear because it meant he would finally be able to actually see Harry.

      He would see him _properly_ for the first time. He’d be able to hug him and talk to him and see how tall he _really_ was.

    Louis had gotten dressed in his best shirt (meaning the one _Harry_ liked most), grabbed a coat to drive off the winter wind, slipped something on his feet because his mum insisted that he wear shoes, and was out the door as fast as he could go. He waited outside Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ door and knocked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His mum was soon standing at his side and chiding him for knocking on the door.

     “Why are you waiting here for?” she asked in confusion as he switched tactics, hitting the doorbell a few times with no luck. Though the area he lived in was always considerably quiet, now everything was silent as the grave; he and his mother made the only noise.

    “Mum, Harry always comes to see me so he has to be home right now. Maybe they just don’t hear the doorbell?” Louis knocked harder and shouted. “Harry? Are you there? It’s Lou, mum finally let me come over!”

     When a hand landed on his shoulder, Louis jumped. His mother gently began to lead him away, mumbling as though to console him. “There’s no one there Louis, I’m sorry dear. It’s getting dark; you need to get back inside before it gets too cold, alright?”

    Struggling out of his mother’s firm grip, Louis ran towards the half-fence that doubled as the gate to Harry’s backyard. “But Harry’s always there! And it’s my birthday, he _has_ to be-” He’d only ever seen the neighbors’ yard in passing but now something beyond it drew his attention, cutting short his outburst. Whatever lay hidden there was sparkling in the setting sunlight, cast in pale orange and gold. Leaning as far over the fence as he could without climbing over it (the gate was apparently locked and was too tall), Louis could make out the silver chain he’d given Harry a few years back, sitting near their peephole in the grass, paper plane still attached.

     “Louis, please get back here!” his mum called, marching right after him as though he were still ten years old. “We’re going back inside alright? You can look for your little friend tomorrow if you’re doing well but right now I have to make dinner for you and your father.”

     Allowing himself to be lead away without a fight, Louis felt a bit numb. “What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt or sick or had to leave and couldn’t tell me?” he asked, sniffling and trying to wipe his eyes free of tears with the sleeve of his jumper, tears he did not want to fall.

      Something _had_ to be wrong, surely? After all, why else would Harry not be home, the one day Louis had come to visit him? Why would he leave his pendant behind in the grass unless something terrible had happened?

     “Don’t cry Louis, come and eat dinner then we’ll get you to bed. It’s best not to worry yourself too much, dear. Tomorrow you can check for Harry again, alright?” His mother ushered him inside where a steaming kettle was whistling its warning and the promise of a warm meal was of little comfort.

      Louis didn’t sleep well that night, unable to keep from imagining the horrible things that could have befallen his friend.

  

* * *

 

    The day after his birthday, Louis wasn’t well enough to go over to the house next door according to his mum. Feeling cheated and still upset, he went to the hole in the fence only to find someone lying there.

      Lo and behold, there was Harry, alive and well.

      Louis was in such a mixed state of happiness and anger that the first words he managed to sputter out were, “They didn’t get you!” before he slumped to the ground (if a bit dramatically), in relief, limbs splayed out as though he were a doll.

     Head partially sticking through the hole, Harry blinked lazily, clearly oblivious to what Louis was talking about.  “What didn’t get me?” he asked, blinking innocently in confusion.

    Louis grinned in what was probably a very manic expression as he started to pick grass and sprinkle it in Harry’s hair. “The mountain lions of course!” he explained, as though the answer was obvious. “Mum took me over to your house yesterday for my birthday because I asked but _you weren’t there!_ I thought you’d died or ran away or mountain lions had got you!” Suddenly he was frowning and crossing his arms abreast, rolling over to glare at his friend properly. “ _You left me alone on my birthday!_ ”

     Harry cringed at the tone, looking at the ground in shame. “I’m sorry Lou, I really am! I wanted to be here with you yesterday but I had to leave because of mum… I really didn’t want to worry you.” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards slightly after a beat and he looked as though he were holding back giggles. “But… you do know there aren’t any mountain lions around, right? You’d have to worry more about being carried off by a swarm of ladybirds than a mountain lion here!”

     Exasperated but fond, Louis smacked Harry across the head. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, idiot!” he said, but laughed along with his friend because he had thought he’d never hear that laughter ever again and it felt like everything was right in the world once more. For the next hour the two talked like nothing had happened at all and by the end of the day, Louis had nearly forgotten all about going to Harry’s house.

    When the waning sunlight caught something small and silver, lying in the grass beside the fence, Louis didn’t pay enough attention to notice. 

 

* * *

 

    When winter came the following year, Louis couldn’t go out of the house for months.

      Practically locked in his room twenty-four hours a day, he thought of Harry; his bright green eyes and curly hair, the dimple he had when he smiled, the time they spent together… It certainly made the grueling hours a little easier, looking out at the backyard with the dead grass and bleak skies, trying to see Harry over the fence. He never managed it (the angle wasn’t right), and his mother would get mad at him for moving around so much, but it made him feel better anyways.

    But lying in his bed, his mother gently stroking his hair while they waited for the fever to pass, he thought about Harry’s side of the dirt pit never getting bigger, and wondered why Harry never really talked about his family or what he did during the day. He still didn’t know what Mr. and Mrs. Styles looked like, even though he’d lived beside them for more than a decade. Of course, perhaps Louis ought to listen more and talk less.... maybe he simply hadn’t given Harry the chance for such things?

      He’d have to ask him about it in the summer.

    “Hmmmm.... maybe I can find flowers an’ make Harry a crown.” Louis mumbled aloud, trying to picture what that would look like on Harry’s beautiful curls. They would probably laugh and joke around and maybe Louis would ask his mother to go to Harry’s house again (somehow they never managed to go back after his birthday last year, and Harry never mentioned going over to Louis’ house). That sounded nice, and Louis hoped he’d remember to talk to her about it when he wasn’t so tired.

    He and Harry had made a promise to always be together, and Louis swore to himself that as soon as he got better (he would get better, he always did, his mother assured him that it wouldn’t happen this time either) he’d start digging the pit again properly, or maybe he’d ask his father to simply take the fence down so he and Harry didn’t have to bother with it. He was nearly tall enough to see over it… perhaps just a few more months and it wouldn’t matter.

     It was with that thought that Louis finally fell asleep, dreaming of houses that were too old, post that never came to the home next door, and the big, bright green eyes that he would see once more next spring. 

 

* * *

 

      As soon as he was well again, Louis made sure to do something special… something he’d wanted to do for a while now.

      Harry had greeted him with the same care and concern that always followed absences of more than a day between the two of them. After what seemed like ages of explaining and reassuring, words of worry and sighs of relief, Louis had taken his friend’s hand and leaned close enough that their noses were touching.

      “I wanted to give you something.” Louis said, shy grin lighting up his expression. Harry quirked his head to the side, mumbling something about his birthday apparently coming very early. Louis laughed and ignored the remark with a role of blue eyes, instead leaning forward and planting a gentle kiss on the wide lips which had suddenly stilled.

      “Wanted to do that for a while now.” He chuckled softly.

      Eyes growing so large Louis wondered if they might actually explode, Harry seemed too shocked for words for a good two minutes. Speechless though he was, a smile grew from the corners of his mouth and threatened to wreck his face in the same manner his eyes already had.

      “Does that mean I owe you a present too?” he finally asked a bit shyly, nudging Louis’ arm before giving his cheek a big kiss. Harry’s own cheeks were tinged pink from blushing as he pulled away, averting his eyes to the ground. “There! Now we’re even.”

      Louis may or may not have tried to argue such a decision by pressing his lips to Harry’s nose with a laugh. That afternoon was one of the best they’d had together by far… one Louis wished he could repeat again and again. 

  

* * *

 

      Before he’d even learned to read, Louis had been told that he wasn’t like the other children. He’d known for a long time that something was wrong... that was why he never went to a regular school, why his mother was always so worried; why even in the summer he couldn’t go outside for very long. It was also why, at twenty one years old, Louis still lived with his parents while most young men his age had gotten jobs and wives and houses out in the city.

     Louis didn’t want any of those things though, he wanted Harry. Of course, that didn’t make it any easier.

     There wasn’t even a name for what was wrong with him, and that was probably the hardest part. No one knew if things would stay the way they were or get worse and worse over the years either. His “condition”, as his mum had called it so long ago, could change at any time without warning. He’d never told his best friend ( _more than that_ , his mind always whispered, _Harry had always been more than that_ ) about it, but every year when the winters came and things got worse, Louis promised himself that in the summer he would tell him.

      The winter before last had been beyond dreadful and on more than one occasion, Louis had believed that everything the doctors warned of would come true and he’d never be able to see Harry again. That was something he feared above all else; never being able to _tell_ Harry, to make him _understand_.

      But summers had come and gone, and still Harry didn’t know.

      Instead, Louis had filled the time he’d spent with Harry with laughter and jokes, flirtatious remarks, and gentle caresses lest he be unable to hold those beautiful hands again. He loved Harry, more than anyone in the world; surely it was better to simply enjoy what time he had, instead of telling the only friend he’d ever made that something may (or may not), go wrong, leaving Harry alone once more…

      Because that was one of the few things Harry had ever told Louis about his life; he had no other friends, just like Louis, and no siblings to play with either. Harry had been alone for a long time before Louis had come along, and to take that away seemed beyond imagining.

      When the fall came and passed though, it became apparent to Louis that this year wouldn’t be like the others; winter was coming in full force, snow blanketing the Tomlinson household and all that lie around it. Louis could see the bright white drifts and flurries just beyond the cold glass of his bedroom window. After a trip to hospital the previous day (it was too far away and Louis hated such long trips), he’d seen buildings, roads, houses, and farms all awash with snow, the Styles’ house included. The sky had been grey and dismal for days, and still would not clear up.

      He had been tired, so very tired, after his visit to the hospital. His mother had said he’d not looked well and Louis was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t been right.

      Louis had known then, as wind buffeted his thin form during the short trip from porch to door after coming home, that something bad was coming this year and Harry needed to know.

      If he did not tell Harry soon, he likely never would.

  

* * *

 

         Different.

      Something was definitely _different._

      At first, Louis couldn’t pinpoint what it was; something had changed since last he’d gone outside… but what?  Everything seemed just as he’d left it; the grass still there (if a bit dead and prickly in patches), air still crisp and clean-smelling as always, dirt still piled in a small hill in one corner… The snow which had fallen days ago had melted once already, but now more flakes were gently dusting everything and making the world slowly turn white again. Walking to the same patch of yard that had become a second home to him, Louis didn’t understand what had changed until the problem was literally under his nose.

      It was the fence. The wooden fence, which had once been completely white and was now a bit worn and patchy in places, was sitting just under his nose and Harry was staring at him from the other side, grinning like a complete idiot. That was when Louis finally realized it.

      He was tall enough.

      For the first time since his family had moved to the countryside thirteen years ago, he was _tall enough_ to see over the white fence which had been the focal point of nearly his whole childhood. When the realization hit, Louis had to grab onto the fence for fear of falling over.

      He had dreamed of looking over and seeing what lie on Harry’s side of the barrier for such a long time… Yet now, Louis almost didn’t _want_ to abandon the crawlspace beneath the wood that he and Harry had worked on for so long (well, even though Harry hadn’t really done all that much). It had always been there for him, just the hole in the fence and the boy behind it. Now here was that boy, almost a head taller than Louis, smiling, wearing an ancient looking jumper, and leaning his chin on the wood. Louis couldn’t see as much of the yard as he might like, but tiptoes solved part of the problem and he could still see his friend either way.

      The yard, he had to admit, wasn’t what he’d been expecting. There was very little in the way of grass; a few patches here or there, but mostly weeds and dirt covered what he could see of Harry’s backyard. There was a stump where once a tree must have stood, a rusted and broken spade, and what appeared to be broken odds and ends of wood or some sort of metal, often overgrown with plants as though the items had been there for years. Perhaps they had?

     Louis probably should have been wondering why Harry’s yard was such a horrible wreck (after all, what mother would allow her child to play in such a yard?) but he was too busy staring face-to-face into mesmerizing green eyes.

      “I knew you’d get there eventually.” Harry muttered quietly, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at Louis like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. “I knew one day we’d be able to see face-to-face. Just took a bit longer than I thought.”

      With his friend staring like that, the only response Louis could think of giving Harry was a kiss; one that was proper, not awkward and bent because of a small space, or dusty with the earth which inevitably would cling to their clothes from the pit. He was on the tips of his toes still and Harry had to bend down just a tad, but that didn’t matter. Louis could feel Harry smile beneath the touch and he stood as tall as was possible, wrapping his hands around Harry’s head.

     “I wondered if I’d ever be tall enough, you know.” Louis mumbled, breaking apart but not bothering to remove his arms from Harry’s neck. He kept their foreheads touching, not wanting to part just yet. The boy’s hair was ticking Louis’ fingers and so he ran it through the thickly curled strands lovingly. “Was thinking of doing something special, but here I am finally tall enough and I completely forgot. I guess this will have to be celebration enough.” He laughed, unable to keep from smiling so hard his face hurt.

     Harry seemed to stare and stare, looking into Louis’ eyes in a way the other boy had never seen before. For a long while, the two stood like that, as close as they’d ever been, yet still with the fence between them; Harry gazing at Louis as though he were made of glass. Finally, Harry broke the spell, pressing his lips to Louis’ cheek gently.

      “I love you, you know.” He finally breathed, tickling Louis’ ear with the soft gust of air. “I always have, and I wanted you to know that. Just… just in case, you know?”

      Louis felt something in his chest constrict as he felt Harry’s hands fist in his shirt. “Love you too, Hazza.” He managed around the lump in his throat, still carding his fingers through the curls he’d always adored. “No matter what. You don’t need to worry, yeah?” Harry had sounded so _sad_ … distant too, and even _shy_ in a way he’d not sounded since they were very, very small. Louis remembered why he’d come out here today…. Why he had wanted to see Harry even though it was windy, freezing cold, wet from old and new snow, and getting dark much too fast…

      “Lou… you’re shivering.” Harry said suddenly, pulling back slightly to search his friend’s face. Louis realized too late that he was indeed shaking, clutching onto Harry like the lifeline that his friend was. “Are you alright?” worry creased his friend’s brow.

      Shaking his head, Louis smiled brightly, giving Harry one more peck on the nose. “It’s all this snow! Can’t expect me to stay out here for long without getting cold!” he shuddered again, wrapping both arms around himself. “I should… probably go inside huh?” he mumbled, taking a step back but not leaving yet.

      Harry still looked worried, but a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sure, I suppose you should.” He scratched the back of his head, turning to look at the sky for a moment, blinking slightly when the flurries caught on his lashes.

      Louis watched the snowflakes flutter down and catch in Harry’s perfect curls, creating a halo of ice to mimic the flower wreath Louis had made him a few years ago. It was a sight Louis promised himself that he would remember until the end of his days, and he spent what felt like eternity just watching Harry.

      In that moment, wrapped in love and snow and silence, Louis realizes that he needed something… just one more thing before he went back inside. “Harry…” he said, looking at his feet for a moment, trying to will away the moisture in his own eyes. “Would you… I mean it’s probably a bit silly but… would you smile for me?”

      There was an intake of breath and Louis finally looked up, hands fidgeting. Harry was looking at him, his eyes suddenly looking ancient and sad, as though the world had formed and fallen around him one after the other. Then Harry reached over, grabbed Louis’ hand and held it tight, planting a light kiss on the fingers.

      “Anything for you, Lou.” He whispered, and then he smiled. Oh how Harry _smiled._   Dimples creased at the corners of his mouth, Louis could see all of his perfectly straight teeth, and there was a passion and joy the likes of which none could match in those impossible green eyes. Louis tried to capture that image and keep it in his very soul, if that were possible.

      “Thank you…. Harry.” Louis wiped his eyes, pulled away, and with a smile he could only hope matched Harry’s own, he waved goodbye and went back into the warm house that awaited him.

  

* * *

 

     Some time in the middle of the night, when Louis’ mother finally left his side to return to her own bed, Louis pulled aside his covers and got up. He was cold, exhausted, and felt different somehow, but that didn’t deter him. Not bothering to change into warmer clothes, he tiptoed lightly out of his bedroom, leaving an open door in his wake, carefully descended the stairs and, in the silence of the night, slipped out the back door.

      Snow had blanketed the ground thinly, creating an ethereal film of white across the ground. Barefooted, Louis found his way to the hole in the fence, half-dazed and not really sure what he was planning to do.

      Laying down onto the frigid and wet ground, the snow seeped into the thin jumper Louis had worn to bed, making a numbing tingle spread from his stomach down to his toes. As new flakes fell from the murky heavens and alighted on his lashes, Louis peered with half-lidded and bleary eyes into the darkness beyond the opening, calling out as best he could.

      “Harry…? Harry can you hear me?” He stuck one hand through the fence, reaching as far as he could from where he had lain, hoping that his friend would somehow come.

      Moments ticked by, interrupted only by the light fog created from Louis’ breath. Then, as the young man felt himself falling, falling, dread seeping into him just as the snow had…

      “ _Louis._ ” A hand, small, gentle, and familiar in a distant sort of way, wrapped itself around Louis’ own hand as green eyes suddenly filled the boy’s vision. The eyes were large but sad, terribly sad and looking as though they had finally accepted a terrible fate. Hair, dark, soft, and curly as any Louis had ever seen surrounded these eyes and poked through the hole.

      It was Harry. There was Harry on the fence’s other side, just as he had always been, and yet… different somehow. Louis realized he must not have been thinking or seeing clearly as the boy that lay before him, their hands intertwined, was the same little boy that had greeted him all those years ago; happy, giggling, and sharing with him a most fantastic secret about almost turning seven.

      “I’m sorry Lou…” Harry said, his voice small and so high pitched Louis actually managed a faint and hoarse laugh. “I’ll stay with you for the night, yeah? I promise I won’t leave you, not ever again.” Harry whispered.

      “But Hazza…” Louis squeezed the little hand in his, clutching it as a lifeline. But he heard Harry make a small “shhh” noise, and another hand gently came to stroke through Louis’ hair.

      “It’s alright Lou,” he said softly, green eyes suddenly looking old and heavy despite the youthful face of their owner. “You can sleep now, Louis William Tomlinson. Just go to sleep for a while. I’ll still be here for you when you wake up. Just like we always promised… _I’ll be here._ ”

      Louis closed his eyes, resting his head in the crook of his right arm, and still holding onto the small hand in the darkness with his other. Snow continued to drift down from above and Louis dreamed of a little boy peeking through a hole, digging into the ground with a special spoon, and kisses stolen over and under painted white wood.

  

* * *

 

     That night, Louis William Tomlinson passed away.

      He’d come inside earlier that evening, shuddering like a leaf, pale, coughing, and feverish. His mother had worried something fierce, tucking him in bed, bringing him what medicine she could and staying by his side for hours while he moaned and struggled to find sleep, tossing and turning, mumbling incoherently about “Harry” and little else. He’d been hardly conscious most of the night, and his mother knew that his condition had worsened, be it from his constant activity, the dreadful weather, or perhaps neither.

      In the earliest hours of the morning, Louis had finally fallen asleep, or so his mother had believed. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, Mrs. Tomlinson had finally left him and taken residence in her own bed, too exhausted even to tell her sleeping husband about Louis’ current state.

      The following morning, Mrs. Tomlinson was shocked to find her son no longer in his bed where she’d left him. The sheets were askew and in a panic, she searched the house, but Louis was nowhere to be found. Crying and calling desperately for her son, it took Louis’ mother little time to realize where he must have gone.

       _Outside._

      There, lying in the snow, pale as a doll and stretched out on his stomach in a manner she’d seen him display many times in the past, was Louis. She should have known he would go outside to the fence, just as he had done nearly every day since they had moved to the countryside. A thin layer of frost had covered his body, eyelashes white in the pale morning sun. Mrs. Tomlinson found him in that far corner of the yard, the same spot he always stayed whenever she’d allowed him outside.

      He lay there as though sleeping, eyes gently closed, one arm sprawled out into what she realized was a large hole in the fence that separated her house from the one next door. In all the years Mrs. Tomlinson had lived in the house she’d bought to keep Louis away from prying eyes, she’d never once gone out far enough into the yard to see the hole, nor the pit which Louis appeared to have dug out with the small silver spoon that lay not far from him. How long the hole had been there, she did not know, but this must have been how Louis saw and spoke to “Harry”. Her son had always insisted that Harry was the son of the couple that lived next door, but that was impossible. Whether or not Harry was a cat or an imaginary friend, as she had once believed, there was no way to know any more.

      Sitting down, Mrs. Tomlinson took her son’s body in her arms and held him tight, crying softly as she rocked him back and forth like a baby. She knew he was in a better place now… had to be. He had been sick for so long, now at least, he could be at peace.

      Holding Louis close, his mother realizes after a moment that there was something clutched between his fingers. It was the same hand that had been lying under the fence and with every care possible, Mrs. Tomlinson gently pried something small and silver from Louis’ fingers.

      It was a pendant, shaped like a paper airplane and attached to a delicate silver chain. She remembered buying it for her son a long time ago, but never seeing him wear it.

      When it was time for Louis to be buried, she made sure that the pendant was buried with him, in a corner of the backyard, just beside the hole her son had cherished. Mrs. Tomlinson convinced her husband to fill up the pit Louis had dug into the ground, but to leave the broken fence intact, to honor their son’s memory. He had obliged, taking every care to return the yard to how it had looked before they’d moved in over a decade ago.

     When all was finally said and done, the Tomlinsons packed their things and moved back to the city; there was nothing for them in the countryside now, and it was better this way. Staying would have only been harder, their son’s memory clinging to the house like a phantom.

      The house would be put up for sale once more, and perhaps another family would move in and take notice of the flower patch that they had planted over Louis’ grave. Until then, it would remain an empty lot, just like the one that had stood beside it for countless years.

  

* * *

 

     Moving was supposed to be something exciting, but Niall was starting to get antsy. He’d been sitting in the car for ages while his mother, father, and older brother unpacked and tried to get some of the furniture in place. Being nine years old, Niall was less than patient and he’d already read through the comics that his brother had brought along, eaten the apple he was meant to have later with lunch (the sandwich would soon be next), and had sung as many songs as he could remember.

      England was apparently a boring place (more so than Ireland, which was where he’d been born), because here in the countryside, in the big and old-looking house his parents had bought, there was no radio reception, no parks, and school was at least an hour’s drive away. He didn’t know why his parents had chosen this house (no one had lived there for almost twenty years), but at least the yard looked to be pretty big.

      “Mum, can I come out yet? There’s nothin’ to do in ‘ere.” He whined when his mother’s head came into view beyond the car window. His door had been left open to let in the breeze, so at least he didn’t have to shout. “Can’t I go play out in the yard or something?” He pulled the best puppy dog eyes possible and stuck out his bottom lip, hoping she’d give in.

      With a huff, his mother rolled her eyes. “Oh alright. Just don’ be gettin’ into any trouble! Your brother can’t watch you right now so don’ go too far out of sight and stay in the back yard until we’re done moving the heavy stuff, okay?” Niall hollered in glee, leaping from the car and tromping through to the back yard.

      A battered old fence surrounded the house and he was too short to look over it, but that was probably to keep dogs out or something. Niall wondered if his mum or dad could take the fence down so he could see some stray dogs… that would certainly make the place a bit less boring.

      Whatever grass might have grown in the yard once was prickly and dead, weeds covering most of the ground except for one corner near where the fence bordered the empty house next door. Niall’s father had told him that no one had lived in that house for a very long time and apparently the young couple that had owned it once supposedly had to leave after their son had died. Niall wasn’t sure if that was spooky or cool, so after scouring the yard for anything interesting (there wasn’t much, just a stray ball that had been hiding in some tall weeds and a small silver spoon), he crawled over to the large patch of flowers, hoping to find some bugs or a reasonably weed-free bit of dirt to dig around in.

     Instead, he found a large hole in the fence wood, somewhere between the size of a dinner plate and a dog, concealed behind the patch of flowers. Niall carefully pushed the plants out of the way, crawling on his knees despite the dirt and peeking through to the other side. He’d asked his brother earlier that day if they could play around the empty house, but apparently their parents didn’t like the idea (they’d said something about being too dangerous). Now though, Niall found his chance. The hole looked like it was large enough to crawl into and if he was quiet about it and back before his family had finished unloading, perhaps he could get away with sneaking through.

      “Can’t really hurt. I’ll be back before I’m missed!” he mumbled excitedly under his breath, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby to see him. Careful not to tear any of his clothes on the splintered wood, Niall crawled through dirt and weeds to the other side. Once there, he stretched out, turning to look at the hole he’d come through and covering his mouth to muffle the giggles.

       _He was on the other side!_ Now he could explore as much as he wanted and his parents would never know! Maybe if his brother could keep a secret, Niall would show him the hole too and they could try to come through together…

      “Hey… you must be from the family that moved in!” Niall jumped, letting out a tiny yelp and spinning around at the unfamiliar voice. His blue eyes went the size of saucers as he came face to face with two little boys, near enough to his age judging by their size.

      One of the boys was taller and his face was almost hidden by a full head of dark brown curls. He was drowning in a very worn looking jumper and had some kind of pendant around his neck; silver and shaped something like a triangle, though Niall couldn’t really see. The other boy was smaller and of slighter frame, his knees poking out from between sockless shoes and shorts held up by suspenders. Between them both, the boys had their hands clasped tightly, bodies close enough to be joined.

      “Who’re you?” Niall blurted, standing up and not bothering to dust off his trousers. “Thought no one lived here?” he asked, rather unceremoniously, head tilted to the side in confusion.

      The smaller boy chuckled; it was a light, airy sound and he looked to have some very pointy canine teeth. “You’re talkative aren’t you?” he stated, rather than asked. “I’m Louis and this is Harry. He’s the one that lives here, but he’s my best friend so I get to visit him whenever I want to. We were just going to play some ball… do you want to play?”

      “We always like meeting new people.” Harry added, much softer but smiling just as bright. Niall realized he had unusual green eyes. “You’re our only neighbor right now… we haven’t had one in a long time.”

      Niall stared for a moment, from one boy to the next. They were smiling and sounded friendly… and he could see right through them. Not in the way his parents sometimes talked about, like liars or people who tried to pretend they were something they weren’t. No, he could see the outline of the big, faded blue house just behind their forms, like ghosts or spirits.

      Niall stepped forward and gingerly touched Louis’ hand. It was solid, warm, and Louis squeezed Niall’s own hand in a sign of affection.

      “So what’s your name then?” the boy asked, poking Niall gently on the cheek. “And why do you sound so funny? Are you from Ireland?” Niall nodded, not sure what to say and Louis grinned. “That makes you a leprechaun!”

      Now Niall burst out into laughter of his own. “Guess it does!” he said. Glancing over his shoulder, Niall could still hear the sound of his family moving about, talking and clanking furniture. He turned to what was meant to be Harry’s house; not a light was on in the whole place and many of the windows were cracked or boarded up. When he looked at the house, he felt said, wondering how long it had really been since someone had lived there…

     Making up his mind, Niall looked at the two little boys, the way they clutched each other’s hand in what could have been a full body embrace. They looked as though they had no one else in the whole world but each other… and perhaps they didn’t.  Maybe they could be his friends while he lived here, even if they were a bit… unusual.

      “Alright lads… how’s about we play some football?” he said brightly, grinning at Harry and Louis. With a cry of triumph, both boys ran off to fetch a ball and Niall couldn’t help but laugh.

      He hadn’t known what to expect when his family had decided to move to the countryside, but now he was beginning to enjoy it. Already he’d made some friends, all because of the hole he’d found in the wood beside the flowers…

      A hole that had lead him just beyond the fence.


End file.
